Jesse Turner
by spider fingers
Summary: Years after disappearing from his home in Nebraska, Jesse Turner is no longer a child. - Set three years after "I Believe the Children Are Our Future." -  Contains slash. Rating will change to M later. ON HIATUS.
1. i & I

**i**

Running becomes really hard after a while. Even if you've been doing it for three years like I have there's a point in your life where you have to stop running away and look around at what you've lost. Freedom, a home, love, family…everything you used to have. Then you have to run again and you have to _forget_ about the things you lost. You can only think about the things you have to gain. Solitude, loneliness, power—things you've always had but never acknowledged, because you used to have smiling faces around you and the feeling of love and warmth. But without those faces and that warmth, those things are all you have. It's painful when all you can do is run away and hide. You can't stand and fight. Not when you're the antichrist.

Not when, no matter who you meet, they always turn against you. Not when you've been lied to your whole life and backed into a corner. Not when, after believing you had a home and a family, it's suddenly ripped out from under you. Nobody can understand the feeling of losing a family. Not the way I lost my family. Not the way that it was taken from me.

Not when I have the same dream (over and over and over) of that one night; the night where two men told me I was a hero, then my mother—a mother I didn't even know I had—came and told me my life was a lie. She told me I had to be angry. That I had to use a power I didn't know I had. God wants me dead and the demons want me to fight for them. I don't even _have _a side. I never did. I still don't. Not even after all those years of running without looking back.

On that night, Sam Winchester, the man I was never able to shake out of my mind, looked at me with utter truth in his eyes and told me I had a choice. He told me I could do the right thing. He gave me a chance.

And I ran.

**I**

When I turned fourteen in August, I decided that I would try my best to change. I knew that it was a stupid thing to wish, but after three years of living off stolen cash and grungy motel rooms, I decided maybe settling down would be nice. I knew I could never have a normal life, or a normal family…but I knew the angels and demons could never find me. Without even knowing it, I was shielding myself from them.

So why not try living a normal life?

On my fourteenth birthday I treated myself to a nice big fancy dinner and, as I watched the laughing family next to me, I decided that I should at least try to settle down. I mean, Dean Winchester did. (Honestly, I had been watching the brothers a year after I fled. At first it was to make sure they didn't know where I was, but then it became a calming past time for me. I know it's a creepy thing to do, but seeing how happy they could be despite the horrifying things they have to go through, it made me feel better—hopeful.)

So, why not me; I deserved it, didn't I?

That was how, a month after the day I turned fourteen, I found myself standing awkwardly before a serious-looking man in a business suit. I didn't understand how I ended up here—well, I understood the _process_ of how I ended up here. I don't know how things like buying a house or attending school works, but apparently the fact that I'm a minor and don't have any parents isn't normal, or _legal_ for that matter. So not only did I have no idea how to even _begin_ to live a normal life but when I tried to sign up for school and the principal found out that I lived by myself in a motel room, he called someone.

This someone had appeared at my door minutes before informing me his name was Gerald and he was with some federal group, and asked if he could come in. Of course I let him in, but I kept my guard up and eyed him wearily as he turned to me and got right to the point.

"Henry Ford?" he began with my fake name, "I've been informed that you're fourteen and yet you live by yourself in this…" he looked around with a blank face, but repulsion was obvious in his eyes, "…room."

"And?" I asked casually.

"Where are your parents?"

I crossed my arms. "They're here. Just, they work a lot."

"That wasn't what you told your principal."

"He's not my principal. I don't attend school there," I retorted. "And I didn't tell him because it's none of his business."

"Yes it is. You need a legal guardian," the man—Gerald—said.

"Well I have them."

"May I meet them?"

I was getting fed up with him so I told him to leave. At first he seemed angry at me and very hesitant to leave, but he ended up going anyway after giving me a card. Once the door shut behind him and I tore the card up, I found myself in a different place. I always did this; when I got upset or knew I was ready to move on, I transported myself somewhere else. Sometimes it's a place I thought of. Sometimes it's a place that I just end up in.

This time I ended up in Arizona.

I knew this instantly because of the mountains; I had never been here before but I got a postcard from my mom's brother once when he first moved here (he's not here anymore though). I guess that was what I thought of when I realized I couldn't stay in New York.

After three years of hiding from the grasping hands of good and evil, I had changed a lot. I became more cautious in both personality and appearance; I always kept my hair cut short and my clothes simple. I didn't flaunt any money I managed to get a hold on in hopes of avoiding suspicion or recognition, yet when it came to simple things like applying for school I always screwed up.

I found myself walking down unrecognizable busy streets, where people pushed past me and ignored me, which I was used to. Every city I've been to, people have ignored me. They usually overlook me or simply have no interest in me, which actually works to my advantage.

But, when I decided to try to build a life again, that wasn't such a great thing.

I continued to wander the streets until I realized I was downtown. There was a band playing in a building that pulsed through the walls, the sound drifting onto the streets. All around me were people and buildings, stores and places to eat…it looked like such a normal place to be. Yet, like everywhere I went, I felt like I didn't fit in. I knew that, with my decision to begin a new life (since it seemed safe enough to do), I had to blend in. Buy a home. Go to school. Maybe even get a job. Make friends. Even if I could never have a family, I knew getting back everything else would be easier.

"Hey, kid!" a voice suddenly called from my right. I spun toward the voice, my defenses shooting up in an instant. "Yeah, you," the voice said. It took me a moment before I put the voice to a face; the face of the boy approaching me.

He seemed a little older than me; he was a lot taller, that's for sure. He had ruffled unkempt blonde hair and grey eyes. He wore a dirty jacket and ripped jeans, and it was obvious he had been on the street for a long time. He reeked of it.

I took a step back and he stopped in front of me, a weird grin on his face.

"I'm Ant. I've grown up on the streets here—I can tell you're a newcomer. Runaway, I assume?" he said.

I shrugged.

"Kinda stupid to c'mere without any bags or money," he said as he eyed my empty hands. "If you want, you can come back with me to the warehouse."

"The what?"

"Warehouse. A bunch of us hang out there—it's our home. Beats those stupid shelters."

I looked at him wearily, wondering if it was such a good idea to follow a stranger to a big old building. But, even if he was planning something bad, I _was_ the son of a demon, right? I could handle a couple rowdy teen runaways.

So I ended up following this Ant guy to the warehouse, which ended up actually being a huge abandoned building. It looked old and dangerous, but once Ant led me inside it looked a lot homelier than I expected. Although the furniture was gross and old, and very limited, there was a lot of open space filled with posters and boxes and bags full of what I assumed were food and (probably) stolen goods.

"Here it is," Ant said grandly, opening his arms and presenting the grungy grey room to me. "Hey, guys, come out. Don't hide like criminals—this guys cool. This guy…" he gave me a curious look and it took me a moment to realize he wanted my name.

"Oh, I'm Samuel," I said without thinking. For some reason Sam Winchester's face was the fist thing that popped into my mind. He was really good at disguising himself. Maybe if I used his name it'd rub off on me.

Heh, yeah, right.

"Samuel," Ant repeated with a nod. "This is Samuel. He's one of us now."

"I am?" I muttered. It seemed nobody heard me. The next thing I knew, people were appearing from behind boxes and under tables, their expression very cautious. There had to be at least thirteen of them, not including me and Ant. They kept a distance but watched us. Some even smiled and said hello, but still didn't approach us.

Then a girl came up, confidence rolling off of her in strong waves, and she stopped right between us. She was tall like a model, her hair huge with thick red curls. She had swim goggles hanging off her neck and wore a swim suit bottom with a large shirt and no shoes. She sure was weird.

"Ant, you picked up a stray?" she asked as she crossed her arms. Ant ignored her and slung his arm around my shoulder.

"This is Georgia. She's a real stick in the mud," he muttered. Apparently Georgia heard him because she growled and whacked his arm.

"Shut up! I'm not! I just don't think another kid would do us any good."

"I'm not really planning on sta—" I began only to for Ant's grip to tighten around me as he pushed his side against mine, as if tightening a side-hug. I stopped talking to shoot him a 'what' kind of expression.

"It'd be stupid to leave," he told me. "Really stupid."

I narrowed my eyes suspiciously. "I can handle myself."

"But we have a lot of kids on our side. We can steal all we want without getting caught. And this building is off the radar; the police never even come near here. We're safe."

"I'm not a runaway," I decided to say.

"Sure you're not," Georgia rolled her eyes. "If he wants to leave let him leave, Ant. We can't afford another kid anyway."

"Since when were _you_ our boss?" Ant asked. "Last time I checked, I was the one who lived here first. I was the one who built this place up and taught everyone how to live."

Georgia opened then closed her mouth, her eyes angry.

"He's staying," Ant announced as he flipped Georgia off and dragged me away from her. The other kids stepped away as we passed, and he led me to a small door that, when he opened it, showed us a small room. It had a sleeping bag on the floor with a small pillow, and a thin hospital blanket draped over it all.

"This is the room we usually use for the sick," Ant said. "But since you're new, you can stay here for the night. Don't worry, we wash our sheets and stuff," he said as he motioned to the room and laughed. I blinked, still trying to register everything that's happening. I hadn't planned on living like a homeless teenager. I had planned on getting a house, or an apartment, and applying to school and making friends and…being normal.

And _this _was _not_ normal.

But in the end I found myself sitting in the open warehouse, surrounded by smelly kids who laughed and fought and ate raw hot dogs. Apparently one of the kids, Thief (because he was the 'best thief in this place') had returned to the warehouse with stolen groceries. They decided hot dogs were a good choice for dinner.

I found myself wedged between Ant and Georgia, who kept glaring at me as I awkwardly munched on my hot dog while Ant walked off to get some drinks.

When Ant returned to his spot with beer, I began to feel restless. I planned on sneaking out tomorrow morning while everyone slept, but if I drank alcohol (I had a low tolerance) I was sure I wouldn't succeed.

"Here," Ant tossed one to Georgia then offered me one.

"No, I don't drink," I said.

"Awww, don't be like that, Sammy! One drink won't hurt," he pushed the bottle in my face insistently.

"I really don't—"

"Yeah, Sam, one drink won't kill yeh," Georgia sneered at me as she took a big swig of her beer. "Don't be a pussy."

I grimaced. "No, I'd prefer not to."

Ant shrugged. "Fine, I give up. Here, Jack!" he cried as he tossed the beer to a kid sitting across from their group. He turned back to face me. "So, Sam, where'd you come from? I can tell you're not from around here. You're way too pale." Ant snickered a bit at this.

"New York," I said honestly.

"Whoa," he said as his eyes went wide. "You came here from New York? Did you _walk_?"

"Not really," I said slowly. "Sort of. I don't know. I don't remember. It took so long to get here."

"Why here, of all places?" Ant asked as he leaned against the wall, sipping his beer. "Arizona sucks, man. We're only here 'cause we don't know where else to go."

"I don't know," I said, rubbing my fingers on my jeans. "I have relatives here. I meant to find them. I want to start a new life."

"New life?"

"Yeah."

"What was your old one like?" Ant asked.

"Why do you ask so many questions?" I asked wearily, turning to give him a careful look. He laughed and slapped my back playfully, though I coughed a little at the force of it.

"I just wanna know! No need to look so suspicious! Here, I'll tell you about me so you'll feel better, 'kay?" He took a big sip of his alcohol, put it down, and then turned to face me completely. I leaned back a bit at the stench of alcohol that wafted from his breath as he spoke. "My dad was a mean drunk. All he did was drink, pass out, wake up, beat me around, then sleep again. My mom was no better. All she did was cry and avoid the house. No one gave a shit about me. So, when my dad shoved me down the stairs and I was sent to the hospital, I gave up and just ran off."

He sighed, as if it happened yesterday. "But that was a year and a half ago. I've been here ever since. Funny thing is, nobody ever tried to find me. Pathetic, I know, but that's how life is. So…now that I told you everything, care to play the sharing game?" he grinned and nudged me. I stifled a groan. It wasn't worth it; I was going to be gone tomorrow anyway. But I had to tell him _something_ or he'd pester me all night.

"Uh," I began as he stared at me intently, "well, my story is nothing special. I was raised in a home with abusive family, and I decided enough was enough. So, here I am," I shrugged, somewhat guilty at lying about my family like that. They didn't deserve to be talked about like that, even if it was just a lie. "So, I'm looking to live with my uncle," I finished. Well, that wasn't a _total_ lie. He _did_ live here at one point.

"I see," Ant nodded as if he understood me completely. "That blows, man. Well, now you got us, right?" he beamed, falling on top of me as he hugged me emotionally. "Man, I knew it when I saw you. I knew you were meant to be one of us."

"Um, okay?" Weird guy.

"Who cares about your uncle, you should stay with us," Ant suggested with a wide smile. "Despite what Georgia says, we have room."

"It's fine," I said awkwardly. "He's expecting me. Well, I'm tired," I said as I pretended to yawn and stretch. "I'm gonna hit the hay. G'night."

Hit the hay? When have I ever said 'hit the hay'? I must've been really anxious to get away from Ant, because I never say stuff like that. But it worked; Ant released me and went back to drinking as I slid into the small room, cautiously attempting to get comfortable in the 'sick bed' Ant had set up for me.

I lay in the 'sick bed' in silence for a long time, staring at the ceiling and counting the minutes in my head. Eventually, the noise outside quieted down and when I peeked outside, the kids were all curled up on the floor and furniture, asleep; even Ant, who was passed out drunk in the middle of the floor snoring loudly.

It was easy to disappear. I didn't plan on seeing them again.

Days after arriving in Arizona—I later found out I was in Tempe—I managed to get an apartment room (one of those "FREE FOR THE FIRST MONTH!" apartment buildings) and applied for high school. The closest one was a while away, but I could manage. Although the first couple of nights in my apartment were difficult, I got used to it pretty quickly. It took me a while to properly apply for high school too, since I had no parents. I had to deceive the school but I managed to get past them.

It was on a Tuesday afternoon that I had my very first visitor. Of course, when the door knocked I instantly jumped in surprise, automatically assuming it was a demon or an angel or even one of those men-in-black federal agents again. But when I opened the door, it was only an older man and a little girl holding a plate of pumpkin bread.

The man looked kind; he had these gentle fatherly blue eyes. His brown hair was messy (he obviously just took a shower) and he wore jeans and a casual shirt. The girl, who was obviously his daughter, seemed like she might have been nine or so. She had his same hair and brown eyes, clad in a sunflower dress. She was smiling from ear and to ear when she saw me and stepped forward. She held out the plate eagerly.

"Hi! My names Natalie and this is my daddy, Jonathon, but everyone calls him Jon. We meant to come earlier but daddy worked so much that he always got home too late to help me make the bread, but my teacher at school gave me the recipe so I could make you some food and I thought 'who doesn't like pumpkin bread?' so I stayed after school and my teacher helped me! I got home and daddy was here early, so he said he'd come and bring the bread with me and I hope you like it, what's your name?" she said in one long breath without even batting an eyelash. She grinned cutely.

I opened then closed my mouth. Wow. She had some _lungs_ on her.

"Um…" I said.

"I apologize," the dad, Jonathon, said with a laugh, ruffling his daughter's hair. "Natalie wanted to welcome you since you first moved in. We're your neighbors, by the way."

"I'm Samuel," I decided to say, sticking my hand out awkwardly. Yeah, I stuck with the name in case I ran into Ant again or something. I wouldn't want to ruin my 'perfect new life'. "Samuel Jesse." What? I didn't want to live life without a little bit of my old one…my fake last name is my real first name. No big deal.

"Nice to meet you," Jonathon shook my hand with a smile then released it.

"Ahem!" Natalie said, nudging my leg with the pan of bread. It actually smelled really good. "Aren't you gonna take it? I worked all day on it."

"Oh, right, thank you!" I smiled enthusiastically at her, taking the bread. When I saw the wide-eyed expectant look on her face I put my face right in front of the food and inhaled deeply. "Mmm, smells good."

She flushed with pride and grinned again. "It _does_ smell pretty good, right?"

"Right."

She giggled and Jonathon was smiling, so I felt like this whole 'new life' thing wasn't such a bad idea.

"Do you…" I hesitated. "Want to come in and eat it with me?"

Natalie's eyes went wide. "Oh! Yes, yes, yes! Daddy, yes, can we?" she practically shrieked, gripping his pants leg in excitement.

He didn't look too sure. "I'm sorry honey, I have to go back to the office soon and your babysitter will be here any second now…"

"But _daaaaaaddy_," she whined with tears in her eyes. "I wanna eat my pumpkin bread with Samuel! Pleeeeease?"

"Natalie—"

"Puh-_lease_?"

He sighed and rubbed his temple. "Natalie…"

"It's fine. I'm sorry I asked. That was out of line—I just met you…" I apologized. I was unsure of how these things even worked; running by yourself for so long tends to do that to you.

"No, oh, that's not it," Jonathon said, waving his hand at me in apology. "It's just…"

"Can't Brittany just eat with us?" Natalie asked hopefully. "Yeah, it's a great idea! Samuel, how old are you?" she spun to face me.

"Um. Fourteen…"

"Brittany is fifteen! You must be going to the same school! Sooo, he can meet new people, right? He'd know someone at his school! Come on, it's win win right daddy?" she put on this big, cute wide-eyed look on as she smiled and begged her dad in this sickly sweet voice. I could see the poor man caving in.

"Oh, alright, if Brittany's fine with it…"

"YAAAAAAY!" she squealed, hugging her dad. Then, to my surprise, she flung herself and clung to my leg in joy. I nearly dropped the bread but managed to steady myself without dropping the wonderfully-tempting pumpkin bread.

"Okay," I laughed.

"Let him go Natalie!" Jonathon cried in horror. He grabbed her by the back of her dress and tugged her back to his side. She giggled hysterically and I had to stop myself from grinning. Her joy was contagious.

"Fine, fine," her dad chuckled. "Be expecting a knock on your door soon," he told me with a sheepish smile as he dragged a giddy Natalie back to their apartment next door. Once the door shut I pulled back, stunned at how different my life has begun to be. I knew it'd be different, but the warmth—the kindness I knew would come when I began this life—it came so suddenly. I got whiplash.

But it was a nice feeling. I liked it.

So, before my guests came (just thinking of that word and the idea of having 'guests' made me smile) I tidied up. The kitchen was a little messy with my soup and ramen supplies and I wiped the counters down. Thankfully I had only just moved in so there wasn't much to clean up. After I cleaned up what I could, I set the pumpkin bread on the counter and waited.

Ten minutes later there was a familiar knock on the door. I opened it and saw Natalie's familiar bright smile. Behind her was a pretty teenage girl, whose cheeks turned a light shade of pink when I smiled at her.

She had pretty red hair and bright green eyes and wore a soft cashmere sweater with a black skirt. All in all, she was the prettiest girl I've ever seen. Then I remembered Natalie, who was already hugging my leg and babbling again.

"I'm her babysitter Brittany," the girl said, smiling. "Her dad told me. It's fine, right? Sorry to intrude."

"No, come in," I said, stepping back to let Brittany in. Natalie still hugged my leg as I led Natalie into the kitchen. She laughed as her legs dragged on the floor, her upper body pressed to my leg tightly. Brittany followed behind giggling with Natalie.

As I gathered some paper silverware, Natalie inhaled the scent of the bread.

"Oooh, good job, Nats! It smells good. I can tell you worked hard."

Natalie's chest puffed out proudly. "I know. Samuel said the same thing."

I smiled slightly as I set the plates and forks up. I put the pumpkin bread in the middle of the kitchen table (granted, it was a small crappy cheap table, but a table big enough for the three of us) and sat down next to Brittany.

Natalie took a huge piece, and to be nice I took a big one too. So did Brittany. I bit into my first forkful and made over-exaggerated noises of pleasure as I chewed. Natalie watched me with her head tilted, a big smile on her face, like always. Brittany followed my lead and closed her eyes in ecstasy, shouting "THIS IS SO GOOD!" through every chew.

Natalie laughed. "I know it's good, but tone it down dudes."

"Dudes? When did you start saying 'dude'?" Brittany asked as she swallowed. Natalie shrugged.

"Kids at school are crazy these days."

"I don't even say dude," I said as I took another bite. "Oh my good Jesus goodness, this is such good bread. It's like, the best friggin' bread in the history of pumpkin bread. If I were to offer this to the gods of bread, they'd cry tears of joy because of how _good_ this is."

Natalie began to laugh. "Samuel!" she gasped in delight. Brittany smiled at me shyly, and I felt my cheeks heat up. A girl never gave me that look before. It all felt so _normal_.

"So," Brittany said, "I heard you're going to start at my school this week?"

"Yeah," I said.

"Well now you know someone," she said with a grin. "I can show you around if you want."

"Thanks for the offer," I replied. "I might take you up on it."

She giggled. "I hope you do."

Natalie scrunched her nose and stuck out her tongue. "Ewww. Stop flirting, guys, I am _trying_ to eat."

I flushed. "We weren't—"

"—flirting," Brittany finished before I could. "Goodness Natalie!"

Natalie shrugged. "What? It was gross."

"We weren't flirting," Brittany said again, casting me long self-conscious glance. I shrugged at her and smiled sheepishly, which she returned. Natalie, who had a giant piece of pumpkin bread stuffed in her mouth, eyed us in repulsion. She swallowed and put the plastic fork down.

"I have some questions too," she announced. I looked at her expectantly. "Ahem. Where did you move from? Why are you living alone if you're only fourteen? Do you have a girlfriend? Why did you move here? Who named you Samuel?" She stopped talking and popped a piece of bread in her mouth and stared at me intently.

Oh. She was done asking questions. Alright, then… "I moved here from New York, I don't live alone my parents just work all the time, I don't have a girlfriend, I moved here because of my parent's work, and my mom named me after her grandfather who died when she was little." I took a deep breath. "Anything else?"

Natalie pursed her lips and thought about it. "No, not really. But I'll let you know if I think of anything."

"Yeah, do that," I said seriously. Brittany smiled at me and put her fork down as she swallowed her last of the pumpkin bread.

"So, when do you start school?" she asked as I finished mine too and threw out trash away. "I live downstairs, so maybe we can walk to the bus together."

Oh. So there's a bus. Good to know.

"I start Thursday," I said honestly. "I was going to wait until Monday next week, but I thought maybe the sooner the better, y'know? And, well, sure, walking together seems fine."

She smiled. "Alright, cool. We can meet downstairs around seven thirty then?"

"Sure."

Natalie groaned. "You're doing it _again_." I hadn't noticed that she threw her trash away and helped herself to my fridge which was, of course, empty. "And you need to go shopping, Sammy, your fridge is totally empty. No milk or cheese or anything. You're gonna starve, dude. That's not good."

I shrugged. I didn't really have an excuse.

"I can go grocery shopping with you after school Thursday," Brittany offered. "I mean, if you want to. I'm a pretty good cook…I can help you fill up your fridge."

To my surprise I felt my pulse quicken at the offer. "Uh, sure, yeah. Sounds good."

We smiled at each other for a while then Natalie's groan made us turn to face her.

"Stop it! You keep saying 'we're not flirting' then you go around having these _moments_ together. Pff, hypocrite much?" she snorted, rolling her eyes as she shut my fridge. Man, for a kid, she acted pretty mature. Well, not completely mature, but for her age she knew a lot.

"We should probably go," Brittany suddenly said, standing and pushing the chair under the table. She smiled at me in this awkward, timid way that I found enchanting. "Thanks for your kindness. I'll see you Thursday?"

"Yeah. Bye," I waved at both girls as they left and shut the door behind them. I stood next to my chair in silence, hand still lifted, the smell of pumpkin bread wafting throughout my kitchen and for a moment I felt like, if I turned around, my parents would be standing there grinning at me talking about how 'she's a nice girl' and giggling over my humiliation.

But they weren't there when I turned around, and I was alone in my apartment.

I couldn't share my new teenage experiences with my parents. I'll never be able to.

Life, even if it's new and safe with friends and school and a permanent home, would always be like this; lonely and quiet. But even so, I was fine with that.

It was better than running away.

* * *

**A.N:** I found this little bugger hiding away in my documents. I got pretty far in this, and decided to post up what I have and work on finishing it. I remember writing this during season 5, still depressed over the lack of Jesse. They need to bring him back! D: JESSEEEE *claws at air dramatically*

Er anyway, second part coming soon...XD


	2. II & III

**II**

Thursday came faster than I expected it to come; Wednesday consisted of me mattress shopping (which was a lot harder than I thought it would be) and trying to make my apartment look…homelier. Normal.

I avoided downtown, where I knew Ant would probably find me; knowing my luck that was inevitable. I didn't plan on going back there and seeing them again. It's not that I didn't like them, but they just didn't fit my goal. Being homeless wasn't the life I dreamt of living.

On Thursday I spent an hour (no joke) trying to look like what I assumed to be 'normal' and 'proper'. I wanted to look like any old fourteen-year-old transfer student attending his first day of high school. I even spent the week before I even signed up for school to come up with an air-tight story behind my travels, lack of records and public school experience, and parents.

Eventually I became Samuel Jesse, a mature young teenager who lives with his parents in a apartment, and his parents work all the time now that they settled down with normal jobs after years of traveling together with Samuel on their funding for researching in order to write a travel book, and once they wrote it they finally settled in Arizona and decided to let Samuel attend school although he's mostly alone in his house since they work early mornings and late nights.

Quite a mouthful, isn't it? But I was able to make this tale very official and bullet proof, which gave me enough confidence to be able to meet Brittany at seven that morning, where she said she'd wait for me. She had her hair up and wore a clean sundress, a heavy-looking bag on her shoulders. When she saw me her whole face lit up.

"Morning!" she greeted as I fell into step with her, following her to where I assume the bus stop was.

"Yeah, morning," I said briskly, too distracted by thoughts of what it would be like to attend an actual high school. "Uh, thanks for this," I added with a genuine smile. She returned it.

"No problem. Here it is," she said when we reached a corner, where a STOP sign was. "Lucky for us, most kids our age live in houses, or nicer apartments down a couple blocks, so you and I are the only ones here…and Polly too, but she ditches school a lot so I doubt we'll see her."

I didn't even bother to ask about Polly. "I see," I said instead, nodding at her. She laughed a little at my serious air and shook her head at me.

"You're a weird guy," she giggled. "You talk so business-like. It's just school."

"I've never _been _to school before," I retorted. "Forgive me if I'm a bit distracted."

"No, no, that's understandable," she admitted, waving her hands at me in defeat. "Hey, if you want, we can walk to the stop together from now on, since we live in the same building anyway."

I shrugged. "Sure." Why not? Brittany smiled again and waved in excitement when an ugly yellow bus rolled up and opened its breathy doors. I followed her onto it and sat next to her in a back seat, where it smelled like gum and B.O. Nobody bothered us, though sometimes a girl or guy sitting up front turned to talk to Brittany, but never addressed me. It was either rude or thoughtful since I was sure I didn't look very approachable at that moment.

When we got to school I waved good bye to Brittany after she pointed out the office to me. When I got to the office I approached the front desk, all smiles and eager to discover how this public school system worked. I hadn't received a schedule but I had written down my choice courses, and was pleased when the lady I spoke to handed me the same list I had given the school before. It had my teacher's names and class numbers and everything.

So I went to my first period class (French I with Miss Lair) and sat down in an empty seat, unsure of if I was supposed to say hello to the teacher first or not. I decided against it, since she looked busy at her computer. Once the bell rang she walked up front and turned to us, her sharp blue eyes gentle but stern, which matched her tight blonde bun and dressy attire.

"Bonjour," she greeted.

"Bonjour," the class drawled as she wrote on a clipboard, her eyes scanning each desk. When her eyes met mine she pursed her lips and her thin dark eyebrow shot up to burrow beneath her bangs. She even clicked her tongue and tilted her head at me, then looked down at her chart thoughtfully.

"I see, we have a new student," she said in clear English, turning back to face me. I lifted my hand awkwardly in greeting then saluted at her blank face (I seriously thought that it was appropriate), which made the class snicker and Miss Lair's eyes narrow.

"Samuel Jesse?"

"Oui," I responded. She grimaced at my words, which confused me. This _was_ French class, after all.

"Did you take French at your old school?" she asked me. I shrugged.

"No. I've been home schooled my whole life."

Her face, though still stone, seemed to leer a little at my response. "Je vois. Qui est un problème."

"Not really," I said, then switched to French; "_I've traveled everywhere, even France, so I am very fluent in the language. I do hope to be able to learn more about it in your class, though_," I flashed a very polite smile and she opened then shut her mouth, the leer quickly turning to an amused laughing sort of expression.

"D'accord," she said, her face turning stone-like again. "I hope I can live up to those expectations, monsieur."

"I expect you will," I replied briskly. She laughed a little (the class looked startled at this) and told me to stay after class so I can catch up, then went on a lesson about verbs and the past tense. After class was over I walked to her desk and she tilted her face at me, her eyebrows raised high as if seriously observing me and determining whether I was deserving of attending her class or not.

"You missed quite a lot. Transfer students, definitely those who come in the middle of the year, always struggle to catch up. Judging by the fluency of your French, though, I suspect that this isn't the case for you, Samuel," she smiled lazily and handed me a folder. "Here are some notes I printed for you, just so you know what we've been working on so far. Good luck."

Touched, I nodded in gratitude and left to my next class; English. Though the next three classes were very clean-cut and uneventful, when lunch rolled around I found myself thoroughly confused about how the cafeteria worked. I went inside, sat down, and wondered how you were supposed to go about buying lunch. I didn't have any money on me but my stomach was insistently growling at me, which annoyed the hell out of me. I kept looking at the lunch line longingly, knowing fully well I could easily manage to get some lunch. But not here. Not now. Not _ever_, actually, since I planned on cutting off all ties of my past—powers included.

I startled when Brittany appeared, all smiles, holding a lunch tray. Two girls and a tall guy stood with her and they all sat down.

"I didn't know you had this lunch!" Brittany said in excitement. "I should've asked, but man, to think we have the same _lunch_!"

"Yeah, what a world," I said. Brittany didn't react to my rude mutter and motioned to her companions. "These are my friends."

"I'm Sally," a brunette said, lifting her hand in greeting, her other busy lifting a bottle of sparkling lemonade to her lips. The red-head next to her popped her head in front of me, her abnormally large green eyes all dreamy-like.

"I'm Samantha!"

"We've got two Sam's on our hands," the boy sang with a cackle. "I'm Paul," he said, flipping grossly long brown hair out of his face. I smiled awkwardly, uncomfortable with all the new faces. I liked Brittany but her friends unnerved me. A lot.

"So, Brittany has told us about you," Sally began. "Must be hard with working parents. I can relate," she said with a friendly smile. "Mine are always off somewhere. I have to take care of my sisters."

"Nobody wants to listen to your sob story, Sal," Paul said gruffly. "So, dude, how you likin' the school so far?"

I shrugged and looked at the table, emitting as many 'leave me alone' vibes as possible.

"Yeah, it aint much fun," Paul sympathized, apparently not catching my persistent 'leave me alone' message. "But it's school, y'know? As much as it sucks, we hafta go. It's like, required or something. Gay."

"Don't use gay in a derogatory manner!" Samantha shrieked dramatically, pointing her plastic fork toward the heavens. "My dads taught me that even the most innocent off-handed comments like that are offensive and ignorant!"

I resisted the urge to just walk away.

"We know you have gay dads already," Paul complained. "Stop throwing their homosexual lessons in our faces."

"ARGH! YOU ARE SUCH A JERK, PAUL!" Samantha cried.

"You're just over-sensitive."

"YOU'RE A HOMOPHOBE!"

"I'm not a homophobe. I fucked a guy once…"

"EWWW! WHAT THE HECK?"

"I didn't need to hear that," Sally cut in, covering her ears. "That's just gross, Paul."

"It doesn't make you gay," Samantha agreed. "So shut up."

"You shut up."

"YOU SHUT UP!"

"YOU!"

"YOU'RE SUCH A DUCK!"

Even I looked up at the weird insult. Everyone stopped yelling and stared at Samantha, who looked totally serious. She realized the change in atmosphere and looked at us frantically.

"What? What?"

"Duck?" Brittany asked with a small smile.

"My daddies say that cussing is a sin," Samantha sniffed in a matter-of-fact manner, crossing her arms. "You're going to Hell, Paul, you cussing mean homophobe."

"I told you, I'm not a homophobe!"

I resisted the urge to tell them that actually, angels are ass holes who don't care if you cuss or not and don't care about sinning or whether or not you deserve to go to Hell or not. They were sinning, cussing, ass holes themselves. Hypocrites.

"Hellloooo?" I snapped out of my trance when I saw a hand being waved in front of my face. I looked over and saw that it was Brittany. She had an apologetic smile on her face. "Sorry about them. They're…er, energetic."

"I can see that."

She laughed. "Yeah, sorry. But hey, we're going downtown to a concert. We're gonna go see Ingrid Michelson, and we wanted to know if you'd come."

I blinked. "Um…really?"

"Yeah!" she beamed as if she were overjoyed I was even paying attention to her. "We're going Saturday night, around seven. I have an extra ticket since my mom ended up not being able to come, so…no need to pay anything."

"I…" I hesitated, unsure. It wasn't that I was worried about Ant magically appearing, but I was uncomfortable with Brittany and her friends, much less going to a concert or—wait, what was I thinking? This is what I wanted; a normal life with friends and making weekend plans and hanging out. Why the heck was I hesitating? "I'd love to."

"Yeah?" she smiled.

"Yeah. Sure."

"Then I'll swing by your apartment and pick you up. I'll bring the ticket."

"Sure," I nodded. "Thanks for inviting me."

"Of course I'd invite you," she said with a soft smile that made my stomach shiver a little in anxiety. Then Sally appeared, bending down on the ground between us with an intense look on her face.

"Heeeeey, no flirting allowed, you sickos."

"We weren't!" Brittany snapped.

"Suuuure," Sally said. "Whispering all by yourselves over there."

So, the rest of lunch was like this. I didn't realize how hyperactive teenagers can be—especially Brittany's friends. I found myself slowly easing into the atmosphere though, and actually gradually joined the conversation. Then the bell rang and everyone went their separate ways. The rest of my classes went by quickly, which was a relief. I was starting to get tired of all of this.

After school I sat with Brittany on the bus again and she talked about Ingrid Michelson and even let me listen to some of her songs on Brittany's iPod. I wasn't really into that kind of music, but she wasn't a bad singer or anything so I acted impressed as we listened to her music. When the bus rolled to our stop Brittany walked me to the apartment building and then went in the other direction while I climbed the stairs to the second floor, where my apartment was.

I was surprised to see Natalie waiting outside my door. When she saw me she lit up and met me at the stairs in excitement.

"Hey! I wanted to hear about your first day," she said. I shrugged and let her walk with me to my apartment.

"Nothing much to tell. It was fine, I guess. I got to meet Brittany's friends."

Natalie flinched at this and I laughed. "You've met them?"

"Oh, I've met them," she muttered. "They're so weird."

"Yeah, well…" I said as we stopped in front of my apartment door. "Thanks for greeting me. I'll uh, see you later," I waved awkwardly and opened the door, nearly falling over when Natalie hugged my waist tightly and said good bye before she rushed next door. I shut the door behind me and made my way to the couch, dropping my bag in the middle of the floor.

I was so exhausted that I collapsed on the couch and slept soundly through the night.

**III**

"Reports of unexplained disappearances have stumped the local law enforcement. There are no leads as of yet, and yet the police don't seem to be digging too deeply into these kidnappings—**CLICK**."

It was 4 o'clock on Friday and I was sitting on the couch chewing on a granola bar, my hand poised up toward the TV as I channel surfed. I had been too engrossed in attempting to open my snack to bother changing channels until now. I didn't like the news; I felt that I'd rather not know what the world was doing, or else I might be tempted to do something. What, I don't know, but I didn't plan on finding out.

I had been lazing around on the couch since I got back from school, bored out of my mind. What little TV I did watch mostly didn't bring any entertainment to me. I ended up just sitting there quietly, thinking. But things – random unimportant things on the TV – still kept catching my attention. In the end, though, I always managed to push my worries in the back of my mind and concentrate on doing nothing.

Before long, I found myself breaking an unspoken rule. I made my granola bar's wrapper float away from me and flip into the trash can without even batting an eye. I didn't want to use any of my powers unless absolutely necessary, but somehow my boredom became so overwhelming I got distracted.

Even so, I found the surge of power – the effects of using that small energy – rush through my veins. It felt exciting to use my powers after such a long time, but the sudden excitement that coursed through my veins startled and upset me. I struggled to push the urge to do more in the back of my head and stood, leaving the soft couch. I had to do _something_…something to distract me. _Any_thing.

I left the apartment, unsure of where I was going but positive that it would be better than staying here.

For a while, I just wandered. Despite having been there for a while, I didn't have any clue of what there was to do here. I mean, it's _Arizona_. What was there to do other than lasso up horses or hike up mountains? I had to resist the urge to speak in a southern drawl half the time…and nobody even spoke with an accent here.

Eventually I found myself somewhere else. Not somewhere else as in some grocery store downtown, but _somewhere else. _Like, full-on new state business. I had no clue as to where I was, all I knew was that I was _not_ in Arizona and most certainly not anywhere I've been before.

So why was I here?

Sometimes I just _was._ It was really hard to control my powers sometimes and I'd find myself somewhere else at extremely random places and moments. I was usually pretty good about controlling it, but sometimes when I got careless enough it just happened.

Startled, I almost forced myself home, but decided I might as well. I mean, nobody knew me here and I _was_ trying to distract myself. Besides, I noticed that I was in what looked like a city. Not sure what city, but it looked pretty lively. It looked _fun_ and I needed fun.

I smiled breezily and wandered the streets, trying to find something to do. I still wasn't sure where I was, I didn't try to find out. It was okay not to know where I was, as long as nobody knew me and I was safe and could do whatever the heck I wanted.

So I went into the nearest club.

I know, I know, a fourteen year old in a club was weird, not to mention illegal. But I was curious. Besides, there was nothing better to do in this city that didn't involve prostitutes or expensive dinners. So a club seemed fine to me.

Getting past the grunts was way too easy. My powers were pretty much unlimited, as far as I knew, and though I knew I was cheating by using them (I kept telling myself not to use my powers, to be normal, but life is way too hard – it's like the universe keeps _telling_ me to use them. Not to mention my will was pretty weak) I found it easy to get past the two guards.

Once inside, I immediately flinched at the colorful flashing lights. Shielding my eyes I stepped deeper into the pounding club, the music deafening and the strong smell of cheap cologne and perfume clogging my nostrils. I felt drunk just by inhaling the alcohol-infested air.

"Hey," a random girl called out to me as if we were old friends, waddling over to me. She had tan skin (spray-on, I assumed) and hideously bright blonde hair. Her grin was way too wide to be natural. "How're you doin'?"

"Um, okay?" I replied uneasily.

"HAHAHA! THAT'S GREAT!" she bellowed, slinging her arm over my shoulder. "We went to high school together, y'know."

"I…highly doubt that."

"It's true, it's true! Or was it middle school? NO, elementary! Oh my gosh you haven't aged one bit, are you a _vampire_?" she gasped with wide eyes. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. I was usually a pretty patient guy but this girl had some weird obnoxious waves that insistently began to break down my patience, little by little.

"No, I'm not a vampire."

She squinted her eyes at me. "Are you _sure_ about that?"

"I'm fairly sure," I said calmly. "I don't even—"

"OH!" she suddenly cried, tightening her arm around my neck. "You moved, didn't you? I remember! You moved to California! I think…I think…" she trailed off.

"Lady, I don't _know _you."

"Oh sure you do!" she giggled.

"I really, really don't," I said.

"Your names Eric, right?" she said, the slur evident in her voice. "Eric…somethingorother."

"No. My names Fernando the Incinerator…the Third."

Her eyes widened and her mouth opened. "Whoa—really?"

"No."

She wheezed in obnoxious laughter. "FUNNY! YOU'RE FUNNIER THAN I REMEMBER, ERIIIIC!"

I grimaced. "Excuse me." I slowly pushed her arm off and slunk away as she stumbled off to slur out the same dialogue to some poor passing man. I shook my head, bewildered. I mean I know TV made clubs seem sort of like this, but reality was so much worse. I'd prefer the clubs they portrayed on TV over this dump. Drunks everywhere and spilt drinks scattered on the floor where poor drunkards could easily slip and break their necks.

Yeah, not a very classy place. I knew that coming in but this was just ridiculous.

Sighing, I sat at the bar. The bar tender turned with a smile to greet me but stopped when he actually saw me.

"Kid," he said sternly, "how did you get in here?"

"The front door," I retorted. "Can I have something to drink? Water – something nonalcoholic."

"Of course, nonalcoholic," he grumbled. "Lemme see some I.D."

"I seem to have left it in my other coat," I said.

"Real funny kid," he growled. "Now get out or I'll call the—"

"I don't think you want to do that," I smiled. His eyes connected with mine and glazed over ever so slightly. "Now get me some water."

"O'course," he mumbled, turning his back. I released my hold on him and gasped, pressing my forehead against the cool table top. Man, using my mind powers could really take a toll on my body if I pushed too hard. Weird. Usually I didn't have such extreme side effects.

"Must be the alcohol," I chuckled sarcastically. I thanked the bar tender when he handed me my glass of water and took a long sip, relieved at the cold comfort it gave me. I peered around the club, observing the drunken (and sober) interactions going on between strangers. There was _a lot _of slapping and grinding going on.

Again, not a very classy place.

"To think I actually believed this would entertain me," I murmured in bemusement. I pushed my empty glass away and slid off the chair, approaching the door. I was sure that I spent a good chunk of my day here. I should probably sleep and get rest for the concert tomorrow.

Stretching, I left the club, thoroughly disappointed. I decided to try to find somewhere to eat, my stomach growling in agreement as I attempted to decide what to eat. That was when I saw them. They were just standing there, side by side, shoulder to shoulder, staring out into the streets. Looking. For _something_.

It was Sam and Dean Winchester.


End file.
